The girls entered a tortilla shop, a loud machine making tortillas in the center of the room, walls filled with luchador masks and memorabilia, they are escorted, by the toothless elderly lady at the counter, upstairs, where they find Pepito and Alex seated at the kitchen table with a tall, mullet-clad, brawny man.

“You made it!” Pepito runs towards Barbara and Ruth, hugging them both. His arms, fingers, and neck, dripping with jewelry.

“I knew you two would make it out alright.” Affirms Alex. “This is Eduardo, alias ‘Eddie the Warrior’. He and his mom, Herlinda, were kind enough to offer us refuge.”

“Good to see you, kid,” He greets Ruth. “and you, young miss. I’m told you’re a skilled swordmaster.” He pats Barbara on the back, she winces at the pain.

Noticing the blood dripping down her back, Eddie’s mother walks out of the room and returns with a set of fresh bandages. “Why are all of my son’s friends so prone to getting into trouble? He could have been a lawyer had his father never taken him and his brothers to those damn wrestling matches.”

“It was predetermined that I become a luchador, mama, you know it as well as I.”

With strong, firm hands, Herlinda seats Barbara on a stool in the living room, turning her away from everyone, she lifts the girl’s shirt and begins replacing the bandages.

“Thank you all, for your hospitality.” Says Barbara, over her shoulder.

Herlinda runs her hands down Barbara’s back. “Look at what they did to you.”

“How’s Azucena?” Asks Barbara.

“She’s resting now. The noise coming from the tortilla machine should help us keep a low profile in this neighborhood.”

“Look at you with all those chains and rings.” Says Ruth to Pepito. “Did you get them all at the temple plaza?”

“Yup.” He confirms, biting down on a tortilla. “They don’t call me Pepito sticky fingers for nothing.”

“Yeah, it’s because you never bathe.” Teases Ruth.

“Neither do you, stupid.” He throws a tortilla at her head, which she easily dodges.

“No making a mess in the kitchen.” States Herlinda.

“Sorry.” Pepito gets up to throw the half eaten tortilla in the trash, his newly acquired jewelry jingling as he walks. “This should more than make up for what we spent on the maiz.”

Herlinda finishes replacing Barbara’s bandages, she gives the girl a gentle tap, letting her know she’s finished.

“Thank you.” She says to the woman.

“Pepito, give her a nice bracelet, why don’t you?” Suggests Alex.

“That’s alright, I don’t need any stolen trinkets, I’m just happy to see kids around the house again.” She grumbles, making her way back down the stairs.

“Mama’s not too happy about me choosing the luchador life, as opposed to a regular family life.” Admits Eddie.

Barbara raises her elbows at shoulder height, twisting her spine, testing the limits of her flexibility.

“Soren Sinven do that to you?” Asks Eddie.

“Yeah, yesterday.”

“That guy is going to have his goons on the lookout for us. We are going to have to be extra careful now. No going out unless it’s absolutely necessary. With the loot Pepito got, we should be able to survive for at least a month.” Alex finishes with a sip of water.

“The coming summer festival will do great for our funds.” Adds Ruth.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Getting a better look at Pepito’s hands, Barbara notices the same longhorn icon she had seen Don Sinven and his cronies wear. “What does that supposed to mean?” She asks, pointing at the ring.

“The Sinven family crest.” Replies Alex. “They brought their family emblem all the way across the sea.”

Eddie slams his fist on the table. “I’m sick of those continental loyalists. They just don’t seem to understand that this isn’t the old world.”

Barbara nods in agreement, Alex gives him a weak attempt at a smile.

“What matters now is we’re safe. The loud machinery should help drown out the noise Azucena might make if she has another episode.”

“You said that already.” Berates Pepito, to no one’s acknowledgment.

“What if the police find us here, anyways?” Asks Barbara.

Everyone in the room turns around to give her a puzzled look.

“I mean, couldn’t you and your mom get in trouble?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie replies, with no further comment.

“There’s a lot of people here in Pillotlan just like you, Barbara. They are more than willing to help the cause.”

“Eddie’s dad was in the military.” Interjects Pepito, mouth full of tortilla.

Eddie gives Pepito a look that makes a chill run down Barbara’s spine. Pepito gulps, as beads of sweat appear on his brow.

“Not a subject for the dinner table.” Alex attempts to relieve the tension in the room, he clears his throat. “Well, at least you two were able to work together.”

“Don’t look too deep into it. We watch each other's backs. All of us.” Ruth walks towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Asks Alex.

“Going to make sure we weren’t followed.” She replies, disappearing downstairs.

Alex turns to Barbara. “You’re right, Barbara. Maybe it was a mistake to mention we were going to a tortilla shop.”

“You mentioned you were going to a tortilla shop?” Asks Pepito.

Seated on his chair, Eddie crosses his leg, furrowing his brow, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I guess we do need to worry about it.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Now Barbara tries to lighten the mood. “It’s not like the police can just walk in here and look around without permission.”

Everyone in the room bursts out laughing, Barbara’s blood rushes to her cheeks, too embarrassed to ask what they find so funny.

“Sorry, Barbara. I forget you’re not from around here.” Says Alex, regaining his breath.

“The police under Don Sinven do whatever they want.” States Pepito. “You think those checkpoints, like the one we ran into the other day, are normal?”

“No.” Replies Eddie. “All the guy wants is more wealth and power, just so he can attain even more wealth and power. The man lives in an endless cycle of decadence.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple, but I will agree he’s up to something.” Says Alex, resting his chin in between his thumb and index finger.

“Like what?” Demands Eddie.

“Who knows? All I’m saying is that it’s easy for aspiring politicians to point at a scapegoat and gain instant support.” A solemn look covers his face. “Whatever the case, we can’t let them get their hands on Azucena.”

Listening to his words, Eddie gives him a smile, Pepito and Barbara nod in agreement.

Herlinda walks back up the creaky stairs, carrying a sack full of food provisions, on her shoulder, a warm folded up blanket.

“Mama, where’d you get that stuff.”

She drops the sack on the kitchen table, with her free hands she inspects the quality of the blanket. “Estella’s girl brought them over for me. Don Sinven’s handing them out to anyone that promises to vote for him.”

Inspecting the sack full of food items, Pepito comes across a pamphlet, unable to read, he flips around, every which way, hoping it will speak to him. Alex takes it from him, sifting through the material.

“It’s a bunch of propaganda.” He continues flipping through until something grabs his attention, he stands from his seat, an uneasy look on his face. “An afflicted rehabilitation center?”

“Oh, no.” Groan Eddie and Pepito, simultaneously.

“He can cure afflictions?” Alex turns the page. “There’s testimonials of people that have received some type of treatment that removes afflicting spirits, using science.”

“You think it’s legit?” Asks Barbara.

Herlinda takes some onions, tomatoes, and jalapeños from the sack and begins chopping them up. Pepito observes, closeby, hoping to just watch, only to be handed a knife and chopping board.

“Of course not. Like Alex said, it’s just propaganda.” Says Pepito, chopping up onions.

“There’s more to it.” Adds Alex. “Says here Don Sinven, out of his own pocket, has already opened this supposed place for treatments.”

“I haven’t heard anything about this.” Says Eddie.

“Neither have I.” Pepito grabs the avocados from the sack on the table.

“Something isn’t right about this. All of a sudden there’s sympathy for the afflicted?” Alex throws the pamphlet back on the table.

Grinding down the avocados on a molcajete, Herlinda adds the chopped ingredients on top, along with a concoction of spices, and mixes them all up with a wooden spoon.

“They’re obviously up to something.” Alex resumes his thinking pose.

“Maybe he’s actually trying to help.” Says Herlinda, placing some tortillas on the stove.

“Come on, ma. You know that’s not his goal.”

“I know we’re about to have a nice meal because of the man.” She places some of the ready tortillas on a palm woven tortilla warmer.

“He didn’t give us anything, that’s our tax money. He’s using public funds to bankroll his campaign.” Retorts Eddie.

“You kids are so distrustful of public servants, as if you would do any better in that position.”

Pepito spreads a spoonful of guacamole on a warm tortilla, taking a big bite.

“One thing’s for sure, he has no intention of helping the afflicted.” Behind Alex, a door is heard creaking to a close.

Barbara looks over at the door, her heart broken for the little girl on the other side.